


Imperfect Storm

by yarroway



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Episode 05x22 House Divided, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarroway/pseuds/yarroway
Summary: Disclaimer: House MD belongs to Fox Television, Heel and Toe productions, David Shore, and possibly some other people who are not me. I'm not being paid for this.Note: This is a post-ep  what-if story based on a scene from House Divided, which was IMO one of the best House episodes ever---with the exception of that one scene.  It bothered me so much that I wrote this.  It might look like character bashing, but my criticism is aimed squarely at the writers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: House MD belongs to Fox Television, Heel and Toe productions, David Shore, and possibly some other people who are not me. I'm not being paid for this.
> 
> Note: This is a post-ep what-if story based on a scene from House Divided, which was IMO one of the best House episodes ever---with the exception of that one scene. It bothered me so much that I wrote this. It might look like character bashing, but my criticism is aimed squarely at the writers.

1\. The BMW takes the lead.  
  
  
The new blue convertible is a wedding present Cameron gave to Chase when their vague honeymoon plans had been shelved. _Temporarily_ shelved, because Chase wants a honeymoon and she wants to make Chase happy. But with the hospital's problems and then the trial, there hasn't been time to even think about a vacation. Now, with the criminal trial over, the civil trial easily a year away, and the appointment of an Acting Dean, the bulk of the administrative burden is off her.  
  
The other two cars are following behind her, single file. It's fitting that she is the one leading their way to the prison. She's the one who got them all on this road in the first place.  
  
Cameron feels badly about that. Not guilty, not exactly, because she did what any responsible doctor would have done. Older and clearer heads had agreed, which was how she'd been appointed to the Board of Directors in the chaotic wake of the ethics investigation, the media frenzy that had accompanied it, the wave of inspections that followed, the change in PPTH's JACHO accreditation status, and the lay off of the least powerful Board member (thus proving her mother's aphorism that crap flows downhill). She had never thought that her frantic calls to the Board members that night would result in such a tremendous upheaval. She'd only wanted someone in authority to stop what was happening before Seth got hurt. And the Board had, but they'd also reamed her out for her whistle blowing, and Cuddy had harassed Cameron for it mercilessly while remaining unscathed herself. As if it was Cameron who had ordered doctors to practice while drunk, Cameron who'd given them breath mints to hide that fact, and Cameron who'd been idiotic enough to do both in front of witnesses. A few days of that got old fast. The awareness that she was being targeted for firing coupled with the knowledge that this or something like it would happen again had festered until Cameron had made her phone calls and brought them all to this.  
  
Cameron glances over at her husband. Chase has tilted back the passenger seat and fallen asleep. He'd worked through the night trying to save a pregnant woman with pre-eclampsia and her baby. They'd wondered if they would need to put off this trip, but near dawn the mother's blood pressure had finally started to drop and the baby's heart rate had returned to normal. Her heart swells with love and pride. He's a wonderful man.  
  
  
2\. The Lincoln glides behind.  
  
  
Foreman is taking his turn at the wheel of his silver Navigator. Remy sits beside him changing the cd, and Taub is staring pensively out the window in the back.  
  
"Are you ready for this?" Remy asks Taub. Foreman braces himself, because he's not.  
  
Taub gives an insincere smile. "Sure. How are you holding up?" Then the fake smile slides away, replaced with a grim kind of anger. "No, actually… I'm going to answer that. Yes, I'm up for this. That woman could have cost me my license, my career, and everything I've worked for. Not to mention the property that is in my name. My malpractice insurance has gone through the roof just because I was investigated in this little incident even though I was never formally charged with anything, and we almost all had to have our hands held by Dr. Bariello all year. What," he asks at Foreman's double take and Remy's shocked expression. "You didn't know? Dr. Wilson told me House got us out of it. And since House wasn't stupid enough to come in to the hospital drunk, no one ever charged him with anything. So he got his way. Anyway, I want to look her in the eye. I want to see if she's ashamed. I want to see her behind bars."  
  
"You think Cameron did the right thing?" Remy asks.  
  
"Absolutely," Taub answers. "We could have killed that boy. At the time I honestly thought I was okay to work. It wasn't till Cameron took my blood alcohol level that I realized how drunk I really was. What about you, Foreman? You think she did the right thing?"  
  
"I don't know," he answers slowly, giving voice to the thoughts that have been churning around inside him for months now. "Cameron did what she did to protect the patient. I respect that. When she made those calls, that was to protect herself. I have to respect that too, but it could have cost us. Could have cost us a lot. I wish she'd found another way to handle it. If she'd come to me, I might have been able to work something out. I just wish she'd given me the chance to try."  
  
"You feel bad for Cuddy," Remy says.  
  
"Yeah. One mistake, you know? You make one mistake and it's all gone, like the last twenty years of your life were a dream. All the good you've done doesn't matter. Only your screw-ups count. All the years of school, all the hours spent at work, the time away from your family and friends, all the money and time spent getting here—it doesn't matter. Cuddy lost her job. Her license was revoked. Her reputation was ruined. She's serving ninety days for, what did they call it—recklessly disregarding patient safety. She's got a civil suit pending, she's going to have huge lawyer bills, and if she ever works in the field again it won't be better than teaching undergraduates at some party school." Foreman shakes his head. "All Cuddy wanted was to save the kid. She just screwed up how she went about it. She made one bad call, and now its game over." It scares him because anyone can make a mistake. One of his mistakes had killed a patient, and it was only luck that had protected him from a lawsuit he knew he had deserved.  
  
"It was a pretty basic mistake," Remy argues. "That's why the criminal case went forward even though the patient lived. Her giving us IV fluids just proved that she knew we were trashed. It's not like we were going to suddenly be sober after a little hydration."  
  
"I know, I know," Foreman agrees. She's right, and he knows it. "I wish we'd just refused to work. I wish I'd thought about it and just walked us all out of there."  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Remy says, and lays her hand on his knee.  
  
"She's right," Taub agrees. "If you'd been sober enough to think of walking out, you wouldn't have had to do it. That was all on Cuddy."  
  
Foreman sighs. "Sometimes I try to figure out why she messed up. What might have been going through her head. Was there too much pressure? She's the first female Dean of Medicine ever. That's got to be stressful."  
  
"Oh, please! You believed that?" Remy asks. "The first woman Dean of Medicine was Anne Preston back in 1866. Not to knock what a hard job Cuddy had, but she wasn't exactly breaking new ground."  
  
"Oh, that's good," Taub smiles. "I'm going to email that around the hospital." Remy laughs, and Taub's angry smile lightens.  
  
"So what do you think?" Foreman asks her.  
  
"What do you think I think?  She tried to fire me for doing exactly what she did to us! "  
  
Foreman can hear the anger in her voice.  He watches the smile slide back over her face, obscuring everything.  
  
"She got cocky," Remy adds with a shrug, as if this doesn't matter to her at all.   
  
Maybe it doesn't really, not very much.  Maybe from her perspective almost being fired is barely a blip on the radar.  
  
"Cocky?" Taub repeats, and Foreman drags his attention back to the conversation..  
  
"Yes. You know, you have power, you get comfortable. She had the Board of Directors in her pocket. Everyone did what she wanted. She had her own little queendom. Pretty soon I'm sure she got to believe that she could do anything. But she couldn't…I wonder how she's making out in prison."  
  
Taub smirks. "She's probably waving her boobs in the guards' faces and swinging her ass around the cell block. By now they're eating out of her hand."  
  
"Hey," Remy objects. "It's not our fault men fall for that. If you got it, you use it." Remy presses a button on the cd player. Jay-Z's voice fills the car.  
  
Foreman feels himself relax. Remy squeezes his knee. It's a nice day for a drive.  
  
  
3\. The Volvo brings up the rear.  
  
  
This early in the day there is almost no traffic, but Wilson keeps both hands on the wheel. He won't speed, even if that means he falls behind the other two cars. It's all right. Onstar knows the way. If he arrives a little later than the others, well, Cuddy will just have to cope. Wilson has something more important to worry about right now than keeping pace. House is beside him, finally back from the hospital, and Wilson will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.  
  
House slurps the huge over-sweetened iced coffee he'd gotten at the Seven-Eleven. "You could totally take them," he says, gesturing at the other cars.  
  
"Not interested."  
  
"You really want to drive all the way there eating my fellows' dust?"  
  
"The road is paved. And, again, not interested."  
  
House squirms. He'll need a break to stretch his leg soon. Wilson keeps an eye out for any sign of a rest area.  
  
"Do you not want to go, or do you not want me to go?" House asks finally.  
  
Something catches in the back of Wilson's throat. "I just like to drive carefully," he says. House must know this is a lie. He's driven with Wilson many times before, and Wilson has never been this cautious. But House seems disinclined to push.  
  
"Are you sure you're up for this?" Wilson is ready and willing to turn the car around and drive back to Princeton if that's what House wants. He wishes it were, because he has no idea how seeing Cuddy in prison will affect House.  
  
"I'm okay," House says, and if Wilson didn't know better he'd swear House was trying to reassure him. "She screwed up. Now she has to pay the price."  
  
"So you're not blaming yourself for this somehow?" Wilson asks.  
  
"Hey, I was lying in your bathtub drunk and hallucinating. Not even the Board could find a way to blame me for what happened. Cuddy made her decisions on her own."  
  
"You're taking this remarkably well."  
  
House somehow conveys a shrug with his eyebrows. "She underestimated my people." He sounds proud, Wilson thinks. He should be. His fellows, past and present, had been in a difficult situation. They'd done well.  
  
"She might have liked you," Wilson says.  
  
"I might have liked her," House admits sadly. They fall silent, because there's nothing to say about that. What might have been will now never be.  
  
"Did she tell you she's moving to Florida when she gets out?" Wilson doesn't want to say that, but he doesn't want House misled either.  
  
"I haven't spoken with her."  
  
"Her grandparents live in Boca Raton. Her parents are looking for a place there and she's going to join them. She wants a fresh start somewhere that people won't recognize her."  
  
"First smart thing she's done in months," House says, which could mean anything. "Whatever happened to the baby?"  
  
"The foster agency removed Rachel when Cuddy was convicted. She's been placed in a different home."  
  
House slouches further down into the seat. He swings his left foot up and rests it on the dashboard. The miles flow past their windows.  
  
"It's not so bad being the tail car," House says. "It's like being celebrities with our own motorcade."  
  
Wilson takes his right hand tentatively off the wheel. He cups it over his mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says, projecting his voice like an announcer. "Dr. House has left the building."  
  
House is smiling, just a crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Wilson lays his hand on House's shoulder and pats gently. Then he puts his hand back on the wheel. He has good reason to drive carefully.  
  
  
  
End.

 


End file.
